


A Quick One

by lyndysambora



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 05:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20501678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyndysambora/pseuds/lyndysambora
Summary: "You ever thought about it?"





	A Quick One

“You ever thought about it?” Jon said, his voice dropping in pitch. 

“Thought about what?” Richie said, pulling off his shirt, and turning around. Jon was still dressed, if you could call it that. Tonight’s outfit was barely there _before_ the show, and now it was sweat-stretched and sliding off him in places. Richie’s eyes were drawn, for the hundredth time, to the strategically torn holes in Jon’s pants, right across the tops of his thighs. A thin strip of fabric, lashed with black laces, was all that separated his groin from the prying eyes of thousands of salivating fans. Or just a friend in the dressing room who couldn’t seem to look away.

“_That_,” Jon said, leaning his shoulders back against the wall, his hips kicked out before him. He crossed his feet casually and smiled. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Richie asked, moving up close to him. Jon sucked in a breath and backed closer to the wall.

“What do you think I’m saying?” Jon said, attempting to smile again, but he was nervous now. Richie noticed his eyeliner was smeared with sweat. 

“You’re flirting with me.”

Jon held his gaze, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. His lips were still parted, though, waiting.

“You’re asking if I want to make a move on you.”

“Well, do you?”

Richie took another half-step in toward Jon, sliding his knee in between the other man’s, so there was no space between them at all. He felt Jon’s legs straighten instinctively, keeping his crotch away from Richie’s thigh. 

“Who dressed you today?” Richie murmured, grazing his knuckles over the exposed skin under the holes in Jon’s pants. A deep shudder passed through Jon’s entire body. Richie felt it in the tensing of the other man’s inner thighs on either side of his own leg. He pressed his palms into the holes and slipped his hands down inside, relishing the gasp of surprise it drew. 

“Richie--”

“What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know.” Jon’s eyes were squeezed shut now.

“What did you want when you asked if I ever thought about it? You had something in mind then, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

Richie moved his hand upward, found Jon’s hardened cock beneath the miniscule fabric of his pants, and rubbed it. Jon’s knees buckled, and he almost dropped his weight onto Richie’s thigh, still planted between his own. 

“You were just teasing me, then? You didn’t really want this?”

“No--”

“No what?”

“No, I wasn’t teasing you,” Jon panted. 

“Then you do want something,” Richie said, lightening his stroke, as the friction was causing Jon’s legs to shiver dangerously. “You want me to bend you over and fuck you in that pretty little ass you’re always shaking for me?”

Jon moaned, and another shudder passed through him. He shook his head.

“Why not?”

Trying to catch his breath, Jon said, “I’m scared.”

Richie leaned in close to his ear. “I can fuck you with my fingers, too. You want me to do that?”

Swallowing hard, Jon nodded. Richie spun him away from the wall and pushed him toward the loveseat. One hand splayed on Jon’s sweat-soaked chest, the other with two fingers planted deep in his own mouth as he walked, sucking them. Jon hit the loveseat with his ass and stumbled, almost fell over it. Richie grasped him by the shoulder and turned him around. 

Reaching around Jon’s body, Richie unfastened the other man’s pants with his dry hand, yanked them down to his knees. Jon’s hands were already planted on the couch back, white-knuckling, his chest heaving. Richie pushed him forward, and Jon spread his legs a little, his knees wobbling. 

“No, I want them together,” Richie said, and Jon did as instructed.

Richie unfastened his own pants and shoved the front flaps aside. He had gone commando tonight.

“Richie,” Jon said, with an urgency that Richie wasn’t sure was desire or fear.

Pulling his fingers from his mouth, Richie said, “It’s okay, man. I got you.”

He found the tight little entrance and caressed it a little before sliding just one of his fingers inside it. Jon’s lower back arched, the small hollow of his spine curving gracefully up into the round of his ass where Richie’s hand was partially buried, and Richie thought he would come just taking in the visual. 

“Ahh-- Rich...”

Pushing his body up tight behind the other man’s, Richie slipped his dick between Jon’s thighs. Jon moaned and squeezed his legs tighter together. 

Richie rolled his hips, allowing the motion to dictate the movement of his finger inside Jon’s body. Jon struggled a little for position at first, until his cock was moving smoothly between the tops of the couch cushions. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he whimpered in rhythm with Richie’s movements. “Oh, god, oh, yes--”

Richie’s knees were going weak with the intensity of the pleasure rolling through him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last, when Jon tensed up beneath him and made a sound like a strangled scream, and Richie suddenly wanted to know what all Jon’s sounds were like, when they could be far away from everyone, and he didn’t have to try to keep them contained, and he could scream and cry all he wanted--

Richie came so hard he almost sank to his knees. 

He pulled out of Jon and leaned against the loveseat for support. “You okay?”

Jon turned around, standing. His eyeliner was halfway down his cheeks now. “Yeah,” he said. 

And though it scared Richie shitless, he leaned in and kissed Jon lightly on each eye, feeling the dampness under his lips. 

“Yeah,” Jon said again. And he smiled.

**END**


End file.
